On reading books on Egypt and the voyage up the Nile, one is sure to
find some mention of the curious beetle which is found along the banks
of the river, especially in Nubia, where the shore is traceried with the
footprints of the busy little creature. Miss Edwards, in her very
interesting book, "A Thousand Miles up the Nile," thus speaks of it:
"Every one knows how this scarab was adopted by the Egyptians as an
emblem of creative power and the immortality of the soul; it is to be
seen in the wall-sculptures, on the tombs, cut out in precious stones
and worn as an ornament, buried in the mummy-cases, and a figure of the
beetle forms a hieroglyph, and represents a word signifying 'To be and
to transform.' If actual worship was not paid to _Scaraboeus Sacer_,[1]
it was, at any rate, regarded with the greatest reverence and a vast
amount of symbolism drawn from its various characteristics."
[Footnote 1: Or _Ateuchus Sacer_.]
I had often wished to see this insect alive, and one day my wish was
very unexpectedly gratified by the arrival of a small tin box in which I
found a specimen of the sacred beetle swathed in wet linen like a
veritable mummy, only, instead of being an Egyptian specimen, this had
come from a kind friend at the Riviera, who knew that the same species
existed there, and had sent me this one by post. The scarab was at once
named "Cheops," and treated with all the respect due to his ancient
family traditions.
His wants were easily supplied: a deep tin box, with earth and moss
slightly damped, gave him space for exercise; and then for food--alas!
that his tastes should be so degraded--he had to be supplied with
cow-dung! This could be done in secret, and judiciously hidden by fair,
green moss; but when exhibiting my cherished pet to admiring friends
the first question was sure to be, "What does he feed upon?" and one had
to take refuge in vague generalities about organic substances, &c.,
which might mean anything, and then, by diverting attention to some
point of interest apart from the food question, the difficulty was
generally overcome.
I kept a close watch to see if the beetle would be led by instinct to
form its round pellets of mud as is its custom on the banks of the Nile,
and having placed its egg in the centre, it begins to roll it from the
margin of the river until it is above high-water mark. There it digs a
hole and buries the pellet, leaving the sun to hatch the eggs in due
time. Travellers who have watched the process describe the untiring way
in which both the male and female beetle roll these pellets, often
falling down with their burden into holes and ridges in the rough
ground; but then their comrades will give them help, and, picking up the
ball, they patiently labour on. Walking backwards, having the pellet
between their broad hind legs, they push it up and up until it is
placed in safety. The persevering energy of this insect led the
Egyptians to adopt it as an emblem of the labours of their great deity,
Osiris, or the sun; they also traced a resemblance in the spiny
projections on its head to the rays of the sun.
Great was my delight to find at length that Cheops--even in
captivity--was true to his native instincts, that he had formed a pellet
about the size of a marble and was gravely rolling it with his hind legs
backwards and forwards in his box. Poor captive! he was evidently
puzzled what to do with the precious thing. He had no Nile bank to
surmount, and the sun was hardly warm enough to encourage any hope for
his future family; but he did the only thing that was possible--he set
to work to scoop out a hole of sufficient size, then rolled the pellet
in and covered it over with loose earth. Three such pellets were made at
intervals of a few days; one of them I unearthed and kept as a curio.
The beetle never seemed to miss it, and having done his duty under
difficult circumstances, his mind seemed to be at rest.
I often placed Cheops in my hand to show him to visitors, and there he
would lie feigning to be dead until he was gently stroked over the
elytra, when he would stretch out his antennæ, then his legs by slow
degrees appeared (for he tucked them close to his body out of sight when
frightened), and at last he would begin to walk in a jerky manner, as if
moved by machinery, often stopping to look and listen to be sure that it
was safe to move, and even if busily at work in the earth, if he saw any
one coming near he would stop, draw in his antennæ and limbs and remain
motionless.
He had a strong and peculiar odour at times, which became more apparent
if he was annoyed. He was infested with a small mite, and though these
were frequently cleared away with water and a camel's-hair brush, they
always reappeared in a day or two, clustering under the thorax between
the first pair of legs, and at times they might be seen racing over his
body with great rapidity. Once Cheops nearly escaped, for I had placed
his box in the sun, and the warmth so excited and waked him up that he
opened his wing-cases, used his gauze-like inner wings, and with a
mighty hum was all but gone in search of his native land, but
fortunately I was near enough to intercept his flight and place him in
safe quarters. After keeping this curious creature in perfect health for
sixteen months, I was much vexed to find him one morning lying in a
shallow pan of water in his box, quite dead. He had overbalanced on to
his back, and, being unable to turn over, had been drowned, though the
water was scarcely half an inch deep. Poor Cheops is enshrined in a
pyramid-shaped box, in which he is often shown and his life-history told
to interested visitors.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: TRAP-DOOR SPIDERS.]